e the tone and place to it. One
glance at his aunt and cousins satisfied Julius. Mrs. Sandal was stately
and comely, and had the quiet manners of a high-bred woman. Sophia, in
white mull, with a large hat covered with white drooping feathers, and a
glimmer of gold at her throat and wrists, was at least picturesque. Of
Charlotte, he saw nothing in the first moments of their meeting but a
pair of bright blue eyes, and a face as sweet and fresh as if it had
been made out of a rose. He took his place between the girls, and the
squire and his wife walked behind them. Sophia, being the eldest, took
the initiative, talking softly and thoughtfully, as it was proper to do
upon a Sunday morning.

The sods under their feet were thick and green; the oaks and sycamores
above them had the broad shadows of many centuries. The air was balmy
with emanations from the woods and fields, and full of the expanding
melody of church-bells travelling from hill to hill. Julius was
conscious of every thing; even of the proud, shy girl who walked on his
left hand, and whose attitude impressed him as slightly antagonistic.
They soon reached the church, a very ancient one, built in the bloody
days of the Plantagenets by the two knights whose grim effigies kept
guard within the porch. It was dim and still when they entered: the
congregation all kneeling at the solemn confession; the clergyman's
voice, low and pathetic, intensifying silence to which it only added
mortal minors of lament and entreaty. He was a small, spare man, with a
face almost as white as the vesture of his holy office. Julius glanced
up at him, and for a few minutes forgot all his dreamy philosophies,
aggressive free thought, and shallow infidelities. He could not resist
the influences around him; and when the people rose, and the organ
filled the silence with melody, and a young sweet voice chanted
joyfully,--

_"O come let us sing unto the Lord: let us heartily rejoice
in the strength of our salvation.
Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving:
and shew ourselves glad in him with Psalms,"--_

he turned round, and looked up to the singer, with a heart beating to
every triumphant note. Then he saw it was Charlotte Sandal; and he did
not wonder at the hearty way in which the squire joined in the melodious
invocation, nor at his happy face, nor at his shining eyes; and he said
to himself with a sigh, "That is a Psalm one could sing oftener than
once